


The Jeevesianian Thingummy

by godsdaisiechain (preux)



Series: Jeevesianian Whatnots [2]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Cartoon Characters, Centaurs, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Unicorns, daffodils
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preux/pseuds/godsdaisiechain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeeves and Bertie, are now immortal and bury the last of their friends.  Times have changed, though.  Jeeves snogs Bertie in public. And Bertie discovers the most delicious flavor in the universe.  Then things get a bit sticky.</p><p>For the fan_flashworks challenge 'Bruise'</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Jeevesianian Thingummy

Jeeves and Wooster had become immorti-thingummy some decades before.  At first it was a lot of fun and games, but the wheeze had become rather depressing as the friends and relations began to drop off.  Finally, the last but one of the old Drones had shuffled off the mortal coil and gone through the glass darkly.

We had snuck into the nursing villa to visit Bingo and he had known us immediately. Hadn’t recognized his own children or granchildren, but he knew me instantly. Wooster had wept brokenly against the Jeevesian chest after each night, but we hadn’t the heart to stay away in his last days.  It had been even worse than watching Aunt Dahlia go, the final days of the last of the dearest chums. We’d recounted all our tales of love and adventure, which was topping, but we knew it was only a matter of time before the wailing and gnashing would commence. 

Finally, it did.  We oozed in one evening and the rooms were empty of Bingos and filled instead with mourners.  One of the duaghters, who rather took after her mother looked at Wooster narrowly and asked if my father was still living.  Thankfully, Jeeves kept the wits about him and got me out of there before I crumbled like a loaf confronted by a fish.  We hovered about at the back of the mourners during the burial.

The heart was bruised purple and blue and green.  If Jeeves had not been there, I have no idea what would have become of Wooster.

About a month after Bingo went the way of all Drones, we lounged about our lair on Mount Olympus, eating some ambrosia that Anatole had made without too many of those bally marshmallows and tossing cards into one of Hermes’s flying shoes while Mackintosh snoozed by the Jeevesian feet.

“Dashed distressing, what?” I said feelingly as a six of diamonds bounced off one of the thunderbolts Marduk had left behind on his last visit. Jeeves was still trying to get the scorch marks out of the setee.  We could have gotten a new one, but the feelings of nostalgia had rather crashed in on us. 

“Mr. Little’s passing was a most poignant event indeed,” said Jeeves, wiping away a tear from the damask cheek.  He stood then, and whiffled over.  I curled up in his lap and tossed a few more mournful cards while Macintosh snorted and pedaled his feet. 

Finally, I had a sort of a thought about something pleasant from the old days, something that would not jar the heart. “Remember the time you turned into a centaur?” 

Jeeves’s breath caught and his eyes went very dark and soulful, like a lovestruck but ruggedly handsome cow. He began to glow pink about the edges, which was a funny little trick that Zeus had played on us when we first became immortal. We gave off a roseate hue whenever we were feeling, ah, affection and caring. “Yes,” he said, humming an eerie tune that set all the bodily hairs on end and set the body to attention.  Wooster glowed rosily as well.   

“Remember the unicorns?” I said, struggling not to tear off the Jeevesian toga and then turn into a shower of gold and have my way with him right there.  We had been rather off our snuggling schedule what with Bingo’s decline, and I wanted the first reunion to be rather more spectacular, the type of union that made us glow the deepest, ruddiest color, the one that showed that the most delightful tumble had nearly melted out the bones of the both of us.  

Jeeves bobbed the lemon. “They will not come to us now,” he said gently, his hue pinkening further.  He kissed the golden hair. 

“But we never even tried, afterwards, to see them, to say goodbye.” Somehow that seemed terribly sad and awful.

“They only come to virgins,” said Jeeves, still in that gentle voice, the one that made me want to kiss him all over. "And we are no longer..." he looked almost shy, the sweet man.

Woosters are not apt to lightly throw in the towel and admit defeat, even in the face of silliness. “We’ll bring them some daffodils,” I said firmly, shifting to adjust the part of the toga that had begun to tent.  "At least they will know that we remember them, that we are grateful for their friendhip." The e.s met the Jeevesian orbs, which twinkled like the sky full of stars behind that aurora bora-whatsit. “You know, like in that wandering cloud splendid grass doo-dad that you like so much.” 

Wooster was folded up in the Jeevesian arms and kissed soundly on both cheeks. “If you wish it, certainly,” said Jeeves, nuzzling the ear most deliciously. A shiver ran through the willowy frame. I adjusted the toga and explained about the spectacular tumble and he beamed at me and agreed. "Yes, darling, of course, we can wait until our feelings grow more acute."

So, Jeeves and Wooster left Macintosh with Anatole for a few weeks and set off to find the unicorns with a suitcase full of daffodils. First, we sallied back to the old metrop for a visit, now certain that no one would recognize us. I found a truly fruity little rolling bag bedezined with a sort of youngish feline called Hello! Jeeves had chuckled at me and kissed me, right in the stall at Camden Market.  It was such a lark to be able to be open with him in that way, and I held the firm, capable hand like a lovestruck schoolboy.  I took him to the Ritz and all the nicest places, just as I had wanted when we were young.   Nothing was the same, of course, but we had a delightful wheeze all the same.

Then we sallied forth to an old haunt, the place where we had first, well, whatnot. In those days, I had played with the unicorns while Jeeves was a centaur, learning the c. tricks and games. neother of us understood our own feelings terribly well, even though we knew we wanted to stay together.  How silly we had been, and how young.

We sat out in a field for a very long time, weaving garlands of flowers. Eventually, the centaur Bane came and told us what Jeeves had already said.  They would not come to us now that we had known each other as lovers.  We left the suitcase full of daffodils and as we strayed from the clearing, we saw the unicorns come out and take up the garlands we had made.  They nodded to us and bowed, and we bowed back.  Perhaps it was enough.

That evening, we sat around a fire with the centaurs and burned mallowsweet and herbs and looked into the flames. We had grown used to this, having been made members of the herd back in the old days, and we saw portents there of the future. And then I understood that we could look in on the descendants from time to time, even if they came to number as the stars. Jeeves held Wooster against him and we sang soulful songs, the same s. s.s that the centaurs had taught us before the first time Wooster turned into a sparkling shower and made, er, thingummy, with Jeeves.  It reminded the young W. that there were still friends about the place. After a longish while, Jeeves levered up and took my hand and we found the selfsame glade, and nestled together, pashing, until dawn.  It was scrumptious.  Jeeves is truly the most delicious flavor in all the universe. 

We woke at sunset the next day,nestled closely together, and I looked deep into the Jeevesian e. “I love you, Reggie… I’d like to, erm, thingamajig, in our old flat.  What do you say?” 

Jeeves beamed and tousled the golden hair. “I say that you are the most specific dream rabbit.”  And we glowed together, then, just the right shade of rosy red. 

Late that night, we nestled together, breathless, naked and sticky.  Jeeves brushed the golden hair out of the face and kissed the forehead. "I love you, Bertram.  No matter what happens, remember this, my own darling."

I looked up at him, then, glowing with love and affection, "I know, Reggie.  You know I love you, too, I hope?"  His smile deepened.

"I know you love me, too," he said.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> In an episode of Big Bang Theory, Leonard borrows a suitcase from Penny and Howard suggests it's the perfect case for bringing daffodils to a unicorn.


End file.
